


That's What You Get When You Lose

by PracticallyIJ



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Gay Chicken, Hilarious Dinner Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5632153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PracticallyIJ/pseuds/PracticallyIJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sal and Q have to go on a dinner date for a joint punishment. With Joe and Murr in charge of the night's itinerary, things keep escalating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What You Get When You Lose

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M for language.

Q watched Sal surreptitiously as they sat across from each other. Sal was his usual pre-punishment self: fidgety with anxious nerves, his worry about the unknown and uncontrollable written on his face, plain as day. He got his phone out, looked at it, put it away, and then repeated the process before chewing on his nails. Q smiled fondly, and pulled Sal's hand away from his mouth. He stopped jiggling around and met Q's eyes with a querying look. Q answered his question before he could even ask.

"I have no idea what we're up against. I know it's easier said than done for you, bud, but try not to worry. Surely whatever this is can't be worse than elephant shit or, God, steppin' on Chinese children, right?"

Sal laughed, ducking his head and looking at Q from lowered eyelashes. 

"Thanks, man. You always know what to say to calm me down." He briefly put his face in his hands, then looked up and smiled ruefully at Q, his dimple showing. Q's heart fluttered. He hoped he wasn't grinning like an idiot.

"That's what I'm here for, my friend."

They were sitting on a small table for two, slap bang in the middle of the fanciest restaurant their crew could find that was amenable to them filming there. Sal and Q were totally in the dark about this shared punishment - all they knew was what they were told in order to film the intro, which was that they were pretending to be on a date. This wouldn't have been such a huge deal - both of them had done similar things before - if they weren't currently visiting a state not generally known for its liberalism. Both Q and Sal had noticed Joe and Murr whispering with their heads together - behaviour that stopped as soon as either of them came within ten feet. No wonder Sal was anxious; even Q felt a heavy sense of foreboding, because when those douchebags got together, they concocted the most evil shit imaginable.

Q, still keeping a discreet eye on Sal, was about to attempt to distract him from his anxiety again, when he heard Joe's loud voice in his earpiece. Sal started, and Q guiltily suppressed a laugh at how easily he was made to jump. Then they both listened in to what Joe was saying, hoping that this one wouldn't be too bad.

"Hey, boys! Are ya ready?"

Sal pouted. "How can I be ready for somethin' I don't know anything about?"

"The answer is simple, Sal: you just do what we tell you." That was Murr, and Q could practically _hear_ the smug grin on his face. He loved the guy and all, but jeez! He could be irritating. He caught Sal's mutinous expression and guessed he was thinking along the same lines. He spoke up.

"Guys, can we get this over with? I love to hear ya both so happy, but the waiter is giving us both the stink-eye, so..."

Joe sounded gleeful when he next spoke, and Q could hear Murr giggling in the background. "Okay, boys. First mission, not so hard: hold hands across the table."

Q looked at Sal, who looked back. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, if it was wishful thinking on his part, but he almost thought he saw a shyness to Sal's expression. Before he could hesitate, he reached halfway across the table and turned his hands palm-up, still meeting Sal's eyes. Sal glanced down at Q's upturned palms and, affecting an air of nonchalance that made Q want to laugh, placed his hands in Q's, fingers interlaced. Q's heart started pounding. "D'you think anyone's noticed yet?" He asked, just to try and alleviate the odd tension that suddenly hung in the air.

"I dunno, man, I don't wanna look. Fuck, what if everyone's lookin'?"

Murr and Joe laughed down the earpiece, and Murr took the mic. "Guys, not many people are looking now, but by the time you're done, they sure will be! Okay, waiter's coming over. Order your main and a drink - but - you gotta maintain a _loving gaze_ with each other throughout!" Sal snorted with laughter, and let go of Q's hands suddenly, leaning back with his face in his hands and groaning.

"Hey! Hey!" Joe ordered down the mic, "nobody said stop holdin' hands. Who said stop holdin' hands?"

Sal took Q's hands again just as the waiter arrived at their table, and they began looking intently into one another's eyes. Q's thought process was split in two: _how the fuck do you do a loving gaze_ , and _God, my best friend's eyes are gorgeous_. Sal had an odd expression on his face, like he was fighting a laugh, but at the same time like there was something else going on there - something Q couldn't read, which was fucking ridiculous after two decades of knowing the guy. Suddenly he noticed that Sal's eyebrows were raised, his eyes slightly widened, and he realised that Sal had ordered and he should probably be paying attention to the waiter. Great, he looked like a fucking idiot now. He could hear Joe and Murr pissing themselves down their earpieces. Just to make the waiter leave, he ordered the first thing he could think of that he knew was on the menu, still gazing at Sal, whose eyes looked fond and amused, and his mouth had the beginnings of a smile to it.

"Wow, Sal, that's an authentic lovin' look right there!" Joe blared into their earpieces. Sal looked shocked, and suddenly went bright red. Q wondered who he'd been thinking of, and tried, unsuccessfully, not to feel jealous.

"Uhh, so, nice place, right?" Q could have slapped himself. Why was he suddenly feeling so awkward and unsure around Sal? It had never felt this way before. Fuck Joe and Murr for this weird stupid punishment.

Sal grinned at Q. "I won't lie to you, as first dates go, this is pretty bizarre. Anyways, I'd rather grab a burger or something."

"Amen, buddy. Maybe after we're done with this-" Q stopped as he realised what he'd said. The other man laughed, that full-out infectious laugh that made Q want to kiss him and never stop, and that never failed to get him to join in, even at his worst. After a second, they stopped, and Sal's expression got weird again. Q tried to work out what he was thinking, but unfortunately he was interrupted by the food arriving at their table. Murr spoke up.

"Right guys, food's here! For this part of the punishment, you get to eat - _but_ \- every other bite you have to feed to each other, maintaining that loving eye contact. And this time, while you feed the other guy, you have to caress his face!"

Q scrunched his face up in discomfort, looking anywhere but at Sal. He knew Sal would find this bit difficult because of fork sharing. Sure enough:

"That's gross! I can't do that!" Sal's eyes were wide and unhappy.

"Well, you have to. It's a punishment." Joe sounded stern and unforgiving.

"I can't, I'll throw up right here in the middle of this restaurant and it'll be the worst!"

Q knew that it wasn't personal, but he couldn't help but feel hurt. He wasn't sick, and he knew Sal liked what he had ordered. He shook Sal's hand gently, and his friend looked back at him, clearly distressed.

"Buddy. It's okay. I'm not sick, right?" Sal nodded dubiously, "and what I ordered - you like too. So even if it makes you feel bad doin' it now, you'll be okay after. I promise," Sal gave him a look that always made Q want to protect him - the look that meant he was scared but trying to fight the compulsion to run and hide, "you trust me?"

"’Course I do, Quinn. You're my best friend." He visibly steeled himself and picked up his fork. Each took a couple bites of their own food, and then Sal picked a forkful of his and offered it to Q, half-smiling. Q opened his mouth, and belatedly remembered that Sal was supposed to touch his face, just as he felt long, soft fingers on his cheek, stroking his beard scruff and tucking his hair behind his ear. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, and was only vaguely aware of a very unusual silence on Murr and Joe's side, but he didn't care. _Fuck it_. If this was only an act for Sal, he could at least pretend for a while that he'd finally gotten what he'd been craving.

"Hey, Q... you closed your mouth." Q snapped out of it abruptly, looking at Sal. Sal looked back with that fucking expression on his face again. Serious, soft eyes and an almost smile, a quirk of the lips. More than twenty years and Q had never seen that expression on Sal's face before. He stopped wondering, shut the thoughts away in a box for examination another time, and chastised himself for getting so damn distracted during a punishment. He put it down to being tired. Opening his mouth again, he received a forkful of food, which was pretty good. A couple more bites and it was Sal's turn. Q felt a knot in his stomach as he offered his fork to Sal, free hand reaching out and cupping his jaw _. His skin is so soft_ , Q thought as he rubbed the backs of his fingers against his cheek, _what would it be like to kiss that?_ He caressed where Sal's dimple showed - Q's favourite thing. It was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds - when it happened, he felt ten times happier.

Sal accepted the bite of food, and swallowed. Q tried not to notice his throat muscles working, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Mmm, that _is_ good. I guess feedin' it to me wasn't so bad." Q, on the receiving end of a bright smile, suddenly wanted to jump Sal right there.

The rest of the main course passed in the same way as it did in the beginning, although the odd tension that was there earlier in the evening became almost palpable. By the last bite, Q thought that if Sal touched him once more the way he had been doing - with so much fucking tenderness - his heart might break because he knew that, for Sal, it wasn't real. He wished he could create some distance between them. He wished he had some time to rebuild his walls so he wouldn't get his heart broken. _Fuck, I'm in trouble_ , he thought.

"So boys, are ya ready for dessertskis?" Joe and Murr had, oddly enough, left them alone for the most part during the main course. There had been some laughter and teasing, but as the meal progressed they became more silent and Q sometimes heard them whispering inaudibly through his earpiece. He wondered if Sal had noticed, but if he had, he wasn’t giving anything away.

"You ready for dessert, bud?" Q said, looking at his best friend. Sal was looking around him as covertly as possible, and Q did the same. People had started noticing their behaviour, begun talking and whispering around them, and the waiter had obviously spread the news of their weird gazing match to the rest of the serving staff, because they were getting a lot of funny looks. Nobody looked happy. Q regarded Sal again, noting that, not for the first time, his face was burning. He reached for his hand in an attempt to bring him out of his own head, but Sal pulled it back. Q felt hurt, and it must have shown on his face because the other guy smiled apologetically.

 "Jeez, I'm sorry. Everyone's just starin', and you know where we are, and it just feels weird, you know?"

"Sal. It don't matter which way you swing. Even being straight, you shouldn't care what a bunch of bigoted fucks think of you. When are we ever gonna see these assholes again anyway? Fuck 'em."

Sal laughed. "Why are you always right?"

"'Cause I'm awesome is why." Q offered Sal his hand, and after a moment, he took it. Joe spoke down the earpiece.

"You know, you guys don't need to hold hands right now. I mean, if you want to, that's fine, but I'm just sayin'."

Murr then chimed in. "Actually, they should hold hands. Order dessert like you did with the main - holding hands. No staring at each other though! This time we want you to play really obvious footsie under the table!"

Sal groaned, but kept hold of Q's hands. "God..."

"And - _and_!" Joe continued, "while you're ordering, at any point of your choosing, Q, you gotta kiss Sal's hands, _real_ tender like!" Both he and Murr burst out laughing.

Q almost slammed his head on the table, while Sal did that fucking adorable pout he did when he was embarrassed, and Q found himself wishing he wouldn’t, because it wasn't fair. The waiter came over, right on cue, and they began playing footsie. As soon as he started ordering, Q could feel Sal's foot sliding further up his leg, then rubbing up and down his calf. He willed himself not to get hard, and moved his foot to tickle the back of Sal's knee, causing him to choke with laughter while he was ordering. He knew people were watching now, because he could hear outraged gasps and barely concealed, agitated whispering. He didn't care. Heart speeding up, he looked at Sal's face, caught midway between a laugh and something indefinable, and then at his hands, caught in Q's. Then he brought Sal's hands up to his mouth, closed his eyes, and touched his lips to them. He could hear Joe and Murr whooping in his ear, and chose to focus on Sal. Turning his hand over, he kissed Sal's pulse point, then left a trail of kisses from there, to his palm, to the tips of his fingers. Suddenly he was aware of Sal's hand trembling, and looked up at him. His eyes were wide and he was biting his bottom lip. Sal cleared his throat. "That was ...convincing." He murmured.

Once again, there was silence from Joe and Murr, and Q suddenly noticed that the waiter was long gone. He looked at Sal, who gazed back, an unspoken, uncertain question in his eyes, and he opened his mouth to speak... Until Joe chose that moment to talk. Q made a mental note to punch Joe right in the balls when this ended.

"Uh, right then boys! Dessert will be a few minutes, so I want you to take this time to flirt outrageously with each other - loud enough so everyone can hear!" Q could hear him high-fiving Murr in his earpiece.

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me. These people look like they're gonna commit a hate crime on us just for holdin' hands!"

Sal smiled wryly at him, doing his ridiculous bedroom eyes look that Q laughed at but that secretly sent him crazy. "C'mon, bud. You said it, we've done worse. And it's not like either of us are strangers to flirtin'." Q could tell it was bravado by the way he still glanced about him and chewed on his lip slightly.

"Time's a-ticking, boys!" Murr interjected, laughter in his voice.

Q grumbled and rolled his eyes. "Fuck, okay! God, how do you even flirt on purpose?" He felt awkward and wrong-footed again, so he fell back to the only thing he knew how to do well - steamy fucking innuendo. He raised his voice slightly, enough so that a radius of a few tables around could hear, then leaned forward, put a smirk on his face and stared into Sal's eyes.

"So, Sal. You liked the food I got, huh?" Sal nodded, eyes slightly narrowed. He obviously wondered where this was going, "well... if you're real lucky we can go back to my place tonight, and I can give you a main course of a _different_ type... If you catch my drift." He could feel glares coming from all different directions. Sal was holding back a laugh.

"Very good, boys! Keep it going!" Joe laughed into the mic. Sal wiped the smile off his face, and looked down at his hands, fingers laced with Q's. His thumb gently brushed the side of Q's finger in a soothing motion, and Q momentarily felt dizzy with emotional need for this guy, before he pushed the feeling away and focused. Sal was ducking his head, looking up at him through half lidded eyes - did he even know he'd done that exact thing just forty five minutes beforehand? - and spoke earnestly, voice raised.

"God, Quinn. Did I ever tell you that you have the most _amazing_ fucking brown eyes I ever saw on anyone?"

Q's thoughts suddenly started racing as he tried to process what Sal had said. _He noticed my eyes? Is he still pretending? God, he looks serious. He can't be serious. Why would he mean it? Pull yourself together, Brian, you stupid fuck, he's doing it 'cos he has to._ He shook himself out of his rapidly downward spiralling train of thought, and realised he must look like a complete dick - to Sal, to the cameras, to everyone. He quickly changed the look on his face from that of dumb perplexity to cocky indifference, thankful that he was better than Sal at hiding his feelings. He flashed his brightest, most appealing smile at Sal, who was looking straight at him now, a slight challenge in his eyes, which were also belying a smile that his mouth was trying to hide.

"Well, have you looked in a mirror lately?" Q said. He didn't need to pretend on this one, "dude, you have fuckin' gorgeous eyes! They're, like, green one minute and then suddenly they're like grey, and sometimes they're brown! That's fuckin' _magic_ , buddy." He could hear Joe and Murr laughing into their earpieces, and pointing out all of the death glares and unceasing whispering that was all aimed at them.

Sal gave him an odd look, somewhere between pleased and surprised. Q, suddenly embarrassed at himself for getting so excited, looked away from Sal and studied their joined hands for a moment. He'd forgotten they were holding hands, and realised that it somehow felt natural now, as easy as breathing. He gently brushed Sal's hand with his thumb, feeling how soft his skin was, how well his fingers fitted between Q's. Abruptly he realised Murr was talking.

"Hey, Q, are you listening? I said dessert's coming!'

"Loud and clear, man." replied Q, rolling his eyes.

Sal gave a snort. "Unfortunately."

"Whatever. Okay, so. Everyone loves dessert, right? You two are gonna _really_ love it. Obviously you'll be feeding each other a bite off of your spoons every so often, but this time-"

Sal groaned again. Q was officially certain that this was the most drawn out punishment ever.

"-you have to make loud noises of enjoyment. If you get what I mean, am I right Joey?"

Joe's agreement came in the form of a loud "Enjoy dessert, boys! I know I will!" followed by laughter. Their food was placed in front of them a few seconds later.

Sal looked appealingly at Q. "Fuck, this is so humiliating. We'll be makin' such a scene... I can't make _sex_ noises here!" He started looking anxious again, looking around the room as if to find a quick exit. He made as if to pull his hand from Q's, but Q tightened his hold a little, and stroked the back of Sal's hand in soothing, circular motions. After a minute or so, Sal relaxed minutely, and Q spoke up.

"Okay, buddy?"

"I'm okay. God, this is difficult." Sal still looked anxious and jittery.

"I know it is, bud, but we gotta do it. Remember what I said before? About us probably never seein' any of these people again?"

"Yeah, I know. I just really hate makin' a scene, man."

Q wanted to cuddle this ridiculous, beautiful man sitting across the table from him and never stop. He'd never felt so protective over anyone before. "Don't worry, buddy. I'll be here with you the whole way, okay? If anyone wants to come and fuckin' start something with you, they can go through me first."

Sal laughed, seemingly distracted from his anxiety for a moment. "Seems like you've said that a lot to me over the years. You've been almost beaten up way too many times on my behalf, man."

Q looked away. "Yeah, well. You're my best friend. It's natural that I wanna fight people who hurt you, 'cause I want you to be okay." He looked back up at Sal, who was looking back, a tender expression on his face, and something that looked a little like wonder. Then it passed, and he looked at his dessert. Joe congratulated them on finally realising there was food in front of them.

"Oops, we kinda need to eat these," he smiled almost coyly at Q, "wow, yours looks so good. Can I try some?"

Q's heart stuttered at the open, inviting look on Sal's face, and rather than pay any attention to the roiling emotions it was causing inside him, he quickly picked up a mouthful of hot chocolate fudge cake on his fork. Sal opened his mouth, and accepted the bite. Hesitating a little, he closed his eyes as if in ecstasy, and moaned.

"Mmm, oh God, that is so _good_ , Q!" A rapturous smile graced his lips, and Q had to start willing his _really_ inappropriately timed erection down again. Hearing his best friend talk like that, seeing that look on his face... fuck, he wanted to kiss him bad right now. But they were in deep enough shit anyway with the people around them muttering in disgust and beginning to openly complain.

"That good for ya, buddy?"

Sal nodded, opening his eyes and smirking at Q. "Bet that's not the first time you've asked somebody that."

Q laughed. "Probably won't be the last, either. Here, let me have some of yours. It looks real nice." He reached over with his fork, but Sal blocked him and spooned some into his mouth before he could do anything else. It tasted great. He groaned, mouth full, then swallowed, aware of Sal's eyes on him.

"Fuck, that's good!" He wasn't even sure if he was playing up the moaning any more, because the dessert was amazing, and he was already half-hard because of Sal's damn... everything, and so he just rolled with it. "Oh... Sal... That is fuckin' amazing!"

Joe and Murr were laughing raucously into their earpieces again, and Joe yelled down the mic. "Do you assholes know how ridiculous you sound right now?"

"Holy crap, everyone looks so angry at you guys!" Murr added, a gloating tone to his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," mumbled Sal, "can we get this over with already? Only I think an angry mob is forming."

Joe laughed again. "Okay, boys, carry on. You're almost there!"

As dessert progressed, and they took turns to eat their own meal and then feed each other some, Q found himself reflecting on the bizarreness of this punishment. God knew he and Sal had been through enough of them to know when one felt different, and this one really did feel off, somehow. There was something that he wasn't picking up on, like he had half a jigsaw puzzle and all the wrong pieces... or something. He was suddenly pulled out of his stupor by a gentle touch on his hand.

"Penny for 'em?" Sal asked softly, looking amused.

"Ahh, sorry, man. I guess I was miles away. Hey, you've finished! I guess that means we're done?" Evidently this was too much to ask, because as soon as they started to sit back and prepare to meet a hundred angry gazes, Joe's voice came down the mic again.

"Ah-ah, boys!" Q exchanged a glance with Sal that communicated confusion and mild dread, "you can't leave yet! One more mission. Okay, Quinn: reach into your left blazer pocket."

Q did, and felt what was there: a small square box. "Oh, my God..."

"That's right buddy! You know what that's for! Now get everyone's attention and do it _properly_!" Joe had never sounded so delighted. Sal, however, having taken in Q's pained look and the fact that he had frozen up completely with his hand still in his pocket, was looking over at him, perplexed and slightly uneasy.

"What is it, Q? What've you gotta do?"

"Don't tell him, Quinn! Just do it!"

Q thought quickly. This wasn't real, it was just acting. It wouldn't mean anything to Sal anyway. So fuck it, and fuck the assholes judging them. He stood up abruptly, almost knocking his chair over in the process, and cleared his throat.

"Uhh, can I have everyone's attention?" He called out. If any of these dicks hadn't been looking at them before, they sure as hell all were now. Sal blinked up at him, eyes soft and smile gentle and encouraging. He suddenly realised he had nothing to say.

"...Guys?" He mumbled. "Get a little help here?" All he got back was radio silence and what sounded suspiciously like choked laughter. This was the fucking _worst._ He was going to have to propose to Sal - believably - with a speech that had to come from a real place because Joe and Murr were idiots and weren't giving him anything. Fuck. If Sal realised... if he knew what Q was saying was real and hated him for it... he sighed, and not for the first time, hardened his heart to the possibility of getting hurt. Then, steeling himself, he went down on one knee and produced the little box out of his pocket. For all that his best friend liked to envisage every possible outcome of a scenario, Sal clearly hadn't seen this coming. His hands flew to his mouth, and a slow blush spread from his neck to his hairline.

"Sal... buddy. Uhh, we've known each other a long time now, and, well, I guess what I'm trying to say is..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to collect his thoughts, and felt a gentle pressure on his other hand, which was resting on his knee for balance. Sal had taken it, which helped to anchor Q, to centre his thoughts. He took a deep breath, shutting out the deadly silence in the room, and carried on. "Sal, you're my best friend in the whole fuckin' world. You saw me through so many rough times, and even more amazin' ones too. It took me way too damn long to realise, but I have loved you for fucking ever, bud. And - and I wanna ask - will you marry me?" The final question was spoken in a rush of exhaled breath, Q's stomach in writhing knots.

"How is he even supposed to answer that? Joe, this is so weird! This is the best punishment we've ever thought of!" Murr hissed, sounding at once shocked and excited. Joe shushed him, and they both fell silent again. Q could practically hear them both holding their breath, and the silence in the restaurant suddenly rushed in on him and Sal, a weird pressure in his ears. He could hear his own heart thumping and really hoped that his emotions weren't written on his face for every fucker to read.

Sal opened his mouth, and closed it again. He looked a little dazed. He was shaking his head slightly, a half smile gracing his lips. The weird look in his eyes returned, and despite the fact that Q knew it was a punishment, he suddenly felt that there was something more at stake here, something he couldn't put his finger. He felt hot all over and he looked pleadingly at Sal, trying to get him to hurry it up with the answer. After what felt like an absolute fucking eternity, Sal spoke up hesitantly. He sounded genuinely choked up, and Q internally applauded his acting.

"...I thought you'd never ask."

Q stood up so fast he nearly overbalanced and fell into Sal's lap, but Sal took his arms and steadied him, then stood up too, keeping a hold on him. The room had broken out into judgemental sounding muttering again, and Joe and Murr spoke up simultaneously. "Now kiss!"

Q looked at Sal, who shrugged and smiled. "We're engaged, man. Might as well..." Then suddenly his lips were on Q's. Q's mind went into overdrive - was this really happening? He'd been having dreams where this happened for longer than he cared to remember, and now it was actually really _real_. Fuck if it was pretend, fuck if Sal didn't feel the same. He had this, here, now, and he would have the memory of this to warm him through his loneliest nights - and it would be enough. So he kissed back with all the passion and yearning that he'd felt for all these years, closing his eyes, and felt Sal's fingers curling around the back of his neck, his other hand around his waist. Outraged cries and shouts of disgust rose up and he stuck up his middle finger in their general direction. On some distant level he was aware of Murr and Joe yelling, congratulating each other. For the first time in a long while, he was fairly certain that if he died right now, he'd be dying happy.

Eventually they broke apart. Sal's eyes were wide, soft and slightly unfocused, and his smile was dazed and breathless. Q couldn't help but smile back, feeling almost shy in the wake of what had happened. Neither of them spoke. He stepped back and spoke to the guys. "Joe? Murr? Can we go now please? I think we're about to get lynched."

*******

It was two o'clock in the morning when Q and Sal found themselves in a nearby burger joint, taking in the night's events. At least half an hour beforehand had been spent cursing out Joe and Murr for the evil punishment that they'd cooked up. Both of them had had to concede, too, that it was beautifully done. Eventually the casual talk dried up, and Q sat back, his burger half finished. He felt completely wiped, emotionally and physically. He sent covert glances towards Sal, who also seemed exhausted, and who had begun just picking at his meal. "Hell of a night, then, ah."

Sal looked up at Q with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. " _God_. I thought those people were actually going to kill us for sure that time."

"Nah. They were all posh fucks, all bark no bite."

"True." Sal sat back in his chair, and looked at Q thoughtfully, who felt cold fear creep in and begin to disturb his recently swallowed burger. "Look, man. We need to talk about this, because there's something about this that's obviously bugging you, and I - I have to just get something out anyway."

Q wanted to either throw up or run away, but resigned himself to hearing whatever it was Sal was gonna say. _This is it - he's gonna tell you he knows you're in love with him and he can't be around you any more. You've ruined everything, Brian, you stupid fuck._ He briefly closed his eyes, then met Sal's, and spoke up quickly. "Sal. Fuck. Okay. I-I know what you're about to say, and I just wanna tell you that I'm sorry. I didn't want my feelings for you to get in the way of our relationship, and it was selfish of me to take advantage of you in the restaurant like that. I didn't mean to make you feel awkward, and I totally get it if you don't wanna talk to me for a while. Just - just don't hate me, okay? _Please_? I... I couldn't stand to lose you..." He trailed off, hating how frightened and vulnerable he sounded. He knew that if he said anything else he would cry, and he really wanted to spare both him and Sal that bullshit. He looked away from Sal, reluctant to see the truth of what he'd said reflected in his eyes. Then he felt Sal's hands cupping his cheeks gently, turning his face towards him. Q looked at him, and there was that tender expression again, that fondness in his eyes and softness to his smile, emotions Q hadn't been able to interpret all night. He was confused. Why was Sal looking at him like that?

"Quinn, you oblivious, ridiculous asshole. How the fuck could you think I could ever hate you?" Sal laughed and shook his head, swiping Q's jaw line softly with his thumb. Some of Q's confusion must have shown on his face, because his expression grew serious and he took Q's hand. Q looked down at their joined hands and felt dumbfounded, that Sal would voluntarily hold his hand outside of a challenge or a punishment. Sal spoke again, uncertainly this time. "Q, I... God, I feel so anxious right now, how do I even fuckin' say this? Look. I know how you feel about me. No, let me speak. I wasn't even close to sure until tonight whether you had any feelings for me, and I didn't wanna say anything because I was afraid you wouldn't... that you wouldn't feel the same. So, if what you said earlier was true, then I-I feel the same way, Q. I love you too." He stopped, blushing, and rubbed his mouth nervously.

Q was shocked to his core. "You love me? Really?" He wondered when he would wake up. "I can't - I - _fuck_ , this is really happening!"

"Yeah, buddy, it is," Sal's expression suddenly made so much sense to Q, like the pieces of some puzzle suddenly fell into place in his head and he could see the full picture, "now come here, you beautiful idiot." He grinned as he leaned forward, and Q met him halfway. If their first kiss had been a dream come true, this one must be actual fucking heaven right here. No pressure, no restrictions, no judging fucks or asshole friends. No expectations. They just kissed, fervently and passionately, Sal's mouth like an answered prayer on Q's lips. Q nipped at Sal's bottom lip slightly, and Sal groaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, to Q's disappointment.

"Fuck, Q! If you're gonna do that, we need to get out of here. We really will get the shit kicked outta us."

"God, Sal... Okay. We got two douchebags to thank, then punch in the nuts, anyway."

"Right," Sal agreed, smiling, his dimple showing, "and then, I think we have a choice of hotel rooms..."

Q felt heat rush straight to his crotch. "Fuck. Okay, let's go. Now." Sal laughed, and they made their way to the exit. Suddenly remembering something, Q turned to Sal. "Uhh, buddy? Are we... are we still _engaged?_ "


End file.
